


Life in the Tower

by Hinn_Raven



Series: Prompt-A-Thon 2014 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Crossover, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mentioned Racism, Mentioned Transphobia and Cissexism, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Hange Zoë, Temporary Character Death, all pairings are background pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the SNK characters live in Gotham City, Armin, Mikasa, and Eren have to deal with the aftermath of the Titan Crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life in the Tower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aradian_nights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aradian_nights/gifts).



> So Dani asked for "snk au where armin is oracle, mikasa is batgirl, and eren's the red hood. you can cast the others if you want."
> 
> first attempt at SNK! complete with lots of gratutiousness and personal headcanons! =]

 Armin woke up with Mikasa’s hair on his face and Eren’s arm wrapped snuggly around his torso. Sandwiched in between the two of them, Armin stared up at the ceiling and tried to keep his breathing even so as not to wake up his friends.

But the room was too bright for Mikasa to stay asleep for much longer, and soon enough, she began to stir, pulling her hair off his face as she sat up, yawning.

The three of them were all sprawled on Armin’s very large bed in headquarters. Eren had tried to call it the Nest, but Armin preferred to just call it the Tower.

Mikasa grumbled, stretching her arms. Armin could hear her joints popping, and he winced slightly. “What do you have for breakfast?” Mikasa asked him, sliding out of bed. Her hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and the baggy shirt she wore as pajamas went down to mid-thigh.

“Cereal?” Armin said, trying to remember.

Mikasa sighed, and went to check the kitchen.

Eren woke up not too much later, grumbling about the “noise” of Mikasa’s silent feet on the laminated floor. Mikasa returned upon hearing his voice, a box of Cheerios and an apple in her hands.

“Do you want to get up?” She asked Armin, as Eren shifted to the edge of the bed, his feet dangling over the edge.

Armin looked at his wheel-chair, abandoned in the corner, and then nodded once. Mikasa handed Eren the food, and then carefully scooped Armin up in her arms, and walking across the room, settling him into his chair with great care. Armin began to propel himself towards the kitchen, and Eren and Mikasa followed.

The cereal was all that Armin had in way of breakfast food, and Mikasa rolled her eyes at him and began a list. Armin shrugged and kept eating his cereal, not really bothered by the lack of “proper” food. He had nutrition bars and MREs—the rest of the food was mostly for when Eren and Mikasa came over. Which was more and more often, now that Levi had returned from his trip.

“Armin!” The door to the Tower slammed open, and Armin frowned, noting that the proximity alarms hadn’t gone off. Which could only mean—

Ymir emerged up the stair case, her fedora in one hand and her mask in the other.

“Will you stop disabling my alarms?” Armin scowled at the girl, who only laughed and pecked him on the cheek. She grinned at Eren and Mikasa, grinning lecherously when she saw that Mikasa was still in pajamas.

“Why Mikasa, if I wasn’t engaged—”

“But you are, so stop leering,” Mikasa said flatly, rolling her eyes at Ymir’s antics.

“Ah! I’m hurt!” Ymir placed a hand over her heart.

“What are you doing here, Ymir?” Eren asked, clearly surprised by her presence.

“Good question,” Ymir said, pulling a thick folder out of the depths of her trench coat. “Batwoman and I were prowling yesterday—”

“Prowling?” Eren asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Patrolling is for losers like Levi,” Ymir said, waving her hand.

“Or cops,” Mikasa said pointedly.

“Which I am not any more. So no more patrols. Just prowls.”

Armin flipped through the folder. “I’ll ask Green Arrow and Black Canary to have a peek,” he said.

“Ooh, should be fun,” Ymir said. “I’ll get Historia, it’ll be a party.”

“Don’t you have more conspiracy theories to go investigate?” Eren asked. “Or digging through Levi’s trash?”

“Why would I dig through Levi’s trash, Levi _is_ trash, there is no point. It’s _Hange’s_ trash that holds the secrets to the universe, _ese_. They know the truth about the Illuminati, I’m sure of it.”

“Why would Hange know about the Illuminati?” Mikasa asked, gathering up the dishes.

“Because they’re in charge of it. Duh.” Ymir grinned, and then left, flipping her fedora on her head as she went. As she stepped onto the staircase, the hiss of the gas could be heard, and the tan trenchcoat slowly turned blue, and the faceless mask merged onto her face. The Question left the Tower, humming softly, leaving the smell of smoke in her wake.

“Does she _have_ to do that inside?” Eren grumbled.

Armin shook his head. Ymir was a good friend, if a bit abrasive. “Call Green Arrow,” he told the computer.

“Armin!” Sasha’s beaming face appeared on the screen. “What’s up?”

“Got a job for you and Canary, if you’re up for it,” Armin said, gesturing to the folder on the table.

“Ooh!” Sasha grinned, before turning her head and shouting. “Connie! You want to go on a mission for Armin?”

“What kind of mission?” Connie shouted back.

“Excellent question!” Sasha yelled. She looked back at Armin. “My darling husband wants to know what kind of mission.”

“Just a short one. It’s Annie’s birthday tomorrow though, so I thought you might want to be in Shingashina anyway.” Sasha and Connie guarded, patrolled, and lived in Tross, but they visited often enough.

“Darn right we do!” Connie emerged on screen, wearing his rather ludicrous Black Canary outfit. Armin had never really understood why Connie liked to wear fishnets and a leather jacket, but he wasn’t about to judge how Connie chose to express himself. And since Connie was probably the best martial arts fighter in the world short of the Ackermans, it seemed to work in his advantage.

Sasha pecked Connie on the cheek. “We’ll be there!” She said with a grin. “Bye Armin!”

“Bye,” Armin said.

Mikasa had changed into sweats and a tank top, and was taping her hands, preparing for her and Eren’s sparing match. Eren himself was loading the dishwasher, whistling under his breath, already dressed.  

Armin’s phone vibrated, letting him know he had a text. He glanced at it—Historia wanted to know if he had seen Ymir. He sent a reply, frowning as he realized that Ymir and Historia must have had another fight, if Ymir had left the mansion without telling Historia. He wondered what it was about this time—Ymir and Historia’s relationship had been strained ever since Ymir had re-emerged from Hub City, with the Question mask in her pocket. Armin hadn’t known the identity of the previous Question—no one did—but whoever they had been had left an impression on Ymir. Historia had been furious at Ymir for being gone as long as she had—almost eighteen months, with no word. Ymir had her reasons, sure, Armin could admit that, but Historia hadn’t been in the best place either, and Ymir leaving hadn’t helped _her_ any.

He turned to the news sites, looking for information. He was the Oracle, after all—knowing everything was part of the job description.

The top story seemed to be Hange announcing a new model of phone. Hange ran Survey Corps Technologies, the company that Levi technically owned. Hange also personally designed the majority of the technology that Armin used in their spare time. Armin glanced at the comments before he could stop himself—as usual, people were being assholes about Hange’s preference of pronouns, as well as demanding to know why someone who wasn’t even born in the U.S. (Hange had been born in Turkey) was running a major contractor for the military. Armin rolled his eyes and exited out of the web page.

Levi had successfully made the front page again, getting smash drunk and crashing a car. He wondered how badly Levi had injured himself last night, to need to fake a car crash. Or maybe Levi had just been bored. It happened.

Armin’s phone rang— _Armin’s_ phone, not the Oracle’s, which was important. “Hello?”

“Hello Armin,” Erwin Smith, Armin’s adoptive father, was on the other end.

“Hey Erwin,” Armin said, blinking in surprise—Erwin and he had a schedule for calling, and they had talked only three days ago.

“Sorry to bother you,” Erwin said, although there was an undercurrent of something that Armin couldn’t place over the phone, without Erwin’s expressions to give him a guide. “But Mikasa and Eren are with you today, right?”

“Yes?” Armin was _really_ confused now. Erwin, although he knew about Armin’s activities as the Oracle (and his former life as Spoiler), usually staunchly refused to acknowledge it, and by extension, the fact that Batgirl and Red Hood practically lived with him. Armin understood—Erwin was the police commissioner, after all, he could hardly be seen as condoning vigilantism—but this meant something was _very_ wrong, if Erwin was bringing them up.

“Well, I’m sorry to bother them but…” Suddenly, Armin knew what expression Erwin was making—his eyebrows were scrunched up, and he was pinching his nose, his eyes closed and mouth in a thin line. “But Levi Ackerman is in the holding cell right now and I need one of them to come pick him up.”

“ _What_?”

“He was in a car accident—drunk. He’s got a date in court, and Eren and Mikasa need to come pick him up.”

“Hange can’t do it?”

“Hange’s out of town.”

“I’ll tell them,” Armin said, brow furrowing.

What the hell had Levi been doing last night? The car crash _hadn’t_ been staged? Armin flipped through his surveillance footage of the previous night—Batman hadn’t been seen, that was true, but that could mean anything. Levi often staked out a place and avoided Armin’s cameras for as long as a week.

“Levi is in jail and needs you guys to pick him up!” Armin announced.

There was a _thud_ , as Mikasa dropped Eren out of the choke-hold she’d been holding him in.

“ _What_.” Mikasa’s voice was dangerously low.

“He was drunk driving,” Armin said.

“He can still _get_ drunk?” Eren said incredulously. “I thought that asshole had built up such a tolerance—”

“I thought he quit drinking,” Mikasa said, cutting Eren off.

“So did I,” Armin said. “Was yesterday an anniversary or anything?”

Mikasa shrugged, and sighed. “Well, let’s go get him,” she said, mouth a thin line.

Eren had been the one to find Mikasa, all those years ago, but Levi had been the one to take her in and give her a home. He was the closest thing she had to a father. When Eren had died—those brutal, painful years—Mikasa had come to depend on Levi, opened up to him, even. Batgirl and Batman had been partners. Levi had even approached Armin with a request to help him start the process to formally adopt Mikasa, something that Armin had not yet told Mikasa. All of which made Levi’s recent downward spiral incredibly painful for her. Mikasa had left the Ackerman Mansion in a rage, tears in her eyes and her knuckles bloody from where she’d scraped them on Levi’s teeth.

The Titan attack had left Levi in a state, and he refused to let anyone help him. Not even Mikasa, or the recently resurrected Eren.

Mikasa disappeared into the bedroom, while Eren stomped and scowled, tugging on a proper shirt. Armin watched Eren out of the corner of his eye—even after six months, he still felt like Eren was going to disappear if he wasn’t careful. Eren’s death had shaken Shingashina, but his return had shaken it even more. Eren didn’t speak much about what had happened between his resurrection and return, but Armin knew it involved Grisha Jaeger, whose body had recently turned up in the Himalayas. Most people chalked it up to the Crisis, but Armin knew better.

Mikasa emerged, her red hijab—a gift from Eren—in place. Her face was blank, but her eyes gleamed and her cheeks were flushed.

“Are you coming, Armin?” She asked, her voice steady.

“Yes,” he said, pushing himself away from the computer.

“I’ll get the van ready then,” Eren said.

Eren had been taken in by Levi about six months before Mikasa, coming to Batman’s attention a few months after Carla Jaeger’s death and Grisha’s (first) disappearance. He’d become Robin, Levi’s first partner, and Shingashina’s second hero. Levi had always been more of an uncle than a father to Eren, who had never quite given up on Grisha, always searching for him. Searching for Grisha had been what led to Eren’s death—Eren had heard a rumor of someone matching his father’s description practicing medicine in Carla’s hometown in Turkey, and Eren had snuck off, hoping to find his father. Instead, Eren had met the first of the Titans, and become the first victim. Not that they had known this at the time—they thought it had been a terrorist attack for years, until Eren had returned, a herald of the army that was to come.

Armin stared out the window as they drove down to the station, thinking.

Eren had been infected with the Titan virus, but Hange had been able to reverse-engineer a cure before it had taken over. Annie hadn’t been so lucky. Huntress had attacked the police station, infecting Ymir, Bertholdt, and Reiner before Levi and Mikasa could take her down. Annie still wouldn’t talk to any of them—she blamed herself for what happened, despite the fact that she hadn’t even known she was infected, unlike Eren.

The signs of Annie’s attack on the station were still visible—the whole building was still covered in scaffolding. Annie had been incredibly dangerous as a Titan—probably why she had been chosen in the first place.

Levi was sitting in the cell, wearing a Westwood suit, minus his tie and shoes, and he looked like hell. His hair was pushed out of his face, his face was pale, and his eyes were red. He smelled of vomit and whiskey. Armin hadn’t seen him like that since the Titan Crisis. Levi didn’t look at them, even as Reiner opened the door to the cell to let them in.

“What the _hell_ , Levi?” Eren demanded, as Mikasa kneeled in front of him, pressing a hand against his forehead to check his temperature.

“Shut up, brat,” Levi said, but there was no venom in it, no bite. He looked exhausted, and miserable. He batted away Mikasa’s hand—or tried to.

“You shut up,” she said, frowning. “Levi—”

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” Levi muttered, but he staggered as he got up. Mikasa grabbed him and hoisted his arm over her shoulders, keeping him upright. Mikasa’s face was studiously blank.

“Hange wants to see you,” Eren said, moving to help Mikasa.

“Shitty glasses can go fuck themselves,” Levi muttered, looking even paler than usual.

“Well too bad, you’re going to see them,” Mikasa said. “And then,” her voice dropped. “Armin is changing the codes to the cave.”

Levi jerked in Mikasa’s grip. “You wouldn’t,” he said, eyes narrowed.

“You’re a danger to yourself and others,” Mikasa said, and Armin could hear the underlying bitterness in her voice. “I _would_.”

They got Levi to the car, and then drove to Hange’s penthouse. Hange was waiting for them, arms crossed across their chest.

“Levi,” Hange said. “Two options. Rehab, or detox.”

“Fuck you,” Levi snarled.

Hange shrugged. “You can’t be Batman when you’re like this, and I’m not going to let you be like this even if you _were_ willing to stop being Batman.”

Mikasa shot Hange a grateful look, even as Levi glowered.

“Levi,” Hange’s voice became softer. “We care about you. You can’t keep going on like this. You’re going to get yourself killed—”

“Like anyone would care,” Levi growled.

Mikasa grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. “Don’t you _dare_ say that!” She snarled, and Armin realized, horrified, that Mikasa’s eyes weren’t gleaming with rage, but tears. “Don’t you _dare_! We just got Eren back, don’t you make me lose you now!”

Levi stared at her, as if she was an alien—no wait, not an alien, Levi knew too many of those. He stared at her as if he had never seen her before—as if she was someone who had taken the place of his partner, his _daughter_ , and was speaking a completely foreign language. Mikasa’s hands were fisted in the fabric of his shirt, and he was a good foot off the ground. Mikasa’s shoulders were shaking with tears that she was holding back, but Levi still didn’t say anything at all.

“Mikasa,” Hange said, finally, their voice soft. “Put him down.”

Mikasa dropped him, leaving him in a crumpled heap on the ground, before storming away.

“You asshole,” Eren muttered, going to make sure he was okay. “’f course we care.”

“You’re _our_ asshole.” Hange smiled, helping Levi stand up.

Levi stared after Mikasa, looking guilty. “I should…” he muttered, before trailing off, unsure.

“You should show her _these_ ,” Armin said, grabbing a folder and shoving it at Levi. Levi took it, bewildered, before opening it. His eyes bulged.

“You—”

“Went right on ahead,” Armin said with a shrug.

“You manipulative—” Levi broke off, torn between anger and admiration.

“It runs in the family,” Armin said with a smirk, shrugging.

“Armin, you’re adopted.”

“So?”

Hange laughed, shaking their head. “I’ll go get Mikasa.”

“What are you two talking about?” Eren demanded, confused, eyes darting between Armin and Levi.

Hange returned, a hand on Mikasa’s shoulder, a knowing smirk on their face.

“I, uh,” Levi was awful with words. They had known this for years. “I’ll be going into rehab, I guess.” He glared at Hange. He offered Mikasa the folder.

Mikasa glared at him, snatching it from his hands. “ _Good_ ,” she said vehemently. She then opened the folder, and froze. Her jaw fell open.

“What _is_ it?” Eren demanded, stalking over to peer over Mikasa’s shoulder. He froze too.

“You—you—”

Levi shifted, uncomfortable. “I had Armin draw it up,” he said quietly. “Before. You—you don’t have to, it’s not legal yet—”

Mikasa tackled him in a hug, Eren shortly behind her. The folder with the adoption certificates fell to the ground, the papers floating to earth separately.

Armin smiled, and Hange placed an approving hand on his shoulder. 


End file.
